


Someone Safe

by Goldenrayofsunshine



Series: Therapy Arc? [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Healing, Hugs, Mentioned Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Not RPF, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Snowchester on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Therapy, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Angst, Toby Smith | Tubbo Angst, Toby Smith | Tubbo-centric, Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, michael beloved-underscore, nontraditonal therapy, possible canon, the DSMP characters, the spiritual successor to Sam Nook Mediates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 20:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenrayofsunshine/pseuds/Goldenrayofsunshine
Summary: Michael squirms in his arms and points toward the shuttered window. He squeals.“I know you want to go outside, but you can’t. We’re making a bigger house for us to live in, okay? That will be like outside.” He squeezes his little piglin and listens to the contented groan. “It’s not safe out there. You need to be safe, and there’s just too much danger. People who will try to hurt us.” He squats down into a chair, holding Michael close to his chest, running his fingers through baby-soft fur.“I saw Tommy. At least I think I did. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know anymore.” Michael doesn’t talk and that’s perfect, that’s what Tubbo needs right now. Just someone who will listen. “It’s happened twice now. This is the second time he’s done this to me. Tommy dies, and I have to find a way to live with it, and then he comes back.”***Tubbo is feeling some complicated emotions, and Michael is a good listener.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Therapy Arc? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207643
Comments: 24
Kudos: 137





	Someone Safe

Tubbo hides in the dim attic. He wraps his arms tightly around himself and rocks. “I should feel glad. I’m supposed to be so happy right now.”

_ “hoink.” _

“Yeah. Yeah, c’mere Michael.” He scoops up the piglet that is clinging to his pant leg. “How was your day, buddy?” His son flaps a raggedy ear. “It was boring, huh? I bet, I’m sorry.”

Michael squirms in his arms and points toward the shuttered window. He squeals.

“I know you want to go outside, but you can’t. We’re making a bigger house for us to live in, okay? That will be like outside.” He squeezes his little piglin and listens to the contented groan. “It’s not safe out there. You need to be safe, and there’s just too much danger. People who will try to hurt us.” He squats down into a chair, holding Michael close to his chest, running his fingers through baby-soft fur.

“I saw Tommy. At least I think I did. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know anymore.” Michael doesn’t talk and that’s perfect, that’s what Tubbo needs right now. Just someone who will listen. “It’s happened twice now. This is the second time he’s done this to me. Tommy dies, and I have to find a way to live with it, and then he comes back.”

The piglin won’t understand, but he can tell his dad is upset. He rumbles and presses into Tubbo’s side.

“It’s, uh, it’s cruel. It’s like some kind of sick joke. I’m angry, I think. Yeah. I’m still really angry.” His face itches. “I knew he’d be back. I knew it. Because he was before. He always is. And everyone looked down on me for being in denial, but I was  _ right,  _ wasn’t I? And now, uh, they say I’m wrong again because my friend is dead and alive and I can’t be normal about it.”

Michael snuffs and presents the seam where his skin meets exposed bone for Tubbo to rub. “Oh, you’re sweet. You’re a sweet little guy. When  _ you  _ died and came back to life, did it hurt?” The zombified piglin tilts his head slightly and trembles all over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A friendly oink.

“It’s okay. You’re not afraid of anything. Not soulfire or the nether or mushrooms or being outdoors or indoors or death or resurrection or dead people who are alive again, or fireworks, or small spaces. You’re not -” he stutters, “you’re not afraid of  _ anything.” _

“Well,” he bounces Michael on his knee, “I’m not scared either.” Tubbo sucks in a shaky breath. “Maybe I should be. I know Dream might get out of prison, and the Crimson wants me dead, and Technoblade might blow up my home again, I know all of these things, but I don’t  _ feel  _ anything. Just numb.” A snout snuffs hot air into his palm, and that’s nice. 

“I know that’s not what Tommy needs right now. A friend who is weird and robotic and has no feelings. I’m being  _ logical, _ and he is all heart. I think there’s something wrong with my heart.” His piglin grunts. “I  _ do  _ love you. I do. And  _ him,  _ and Ranboo. I’m able to love people. I just don’t know how to help him. Or how to help anyone.”

Michael fidgets with his sweater. There’s a single loose thread of yarn, and he catches it in his shovel-shaped teeth and pulls.

“No, don’t, please leave that.” Tubbo’s knitting is shabby. Tommy is the one who knows his way around needle and fabric and thread, who patched the arrow-holes in revolutionary uniforms. “You’ll get cold, buddy.” Why’d he settle somewhere so frigid? Like if Snowchester is icelocked, it will remain frozen in time, and everything will stop changing. But Michael comes from a place so hot that the rocks melt. This has to be a shock to his delicate little system. Tubbo just wants to keep him close, someplace where he’s sure to stay unharmed. 

Tubbo touches the waxy scar tissue plastered across his cheeks. He thinks of how Tommy had flinched at the gentlest touch, at the glimpse of a weapon.  _ His son will not get hurt.  _ He swears on it. He needs the promise to come true. To have one person on earth he won’t fail to protect. Tears run down his marred face and Michael brushes at them with a spongy hoof. “Do you know? Why I’m crying? If so, can you tell me?”

Everything is okay for him. He has no reason to be so upset, and yet, and yet. “I will be there for Tommy, I will, as quick as I can, I’ve got to get it together, please. I need to stay away from him until I can act normal. It will help him if we pretend like this isn’t weird.” He wipes his nose. “I’ll be ready soon. I’m good at keeping my emotions inside. Always have been. I’m proud about that.”

Tubbo closes his eyes and listens to his son’s soft, slow, heartbeat. Michael is calm. Michael feels safe in his arms. He believes that Tubbo can protect him. Tubbo doesn’t think anyone can protect them.

“Maybe it’s bad, actually, that I don’t talk about my feelings. Tommy doesn’t like it. But, um, how am I supposed to tell him how angry I am?” He presses a fist into his eye. “I am  _ furious  _ that he let me think he was gone and never coming back, but that’s not fair. It’s not his fault  _ at all.  _ But I don’t know who else to be mad at.” Dream, Sam, and the person who set off the TNT that got Tommy trapped? He already hates them as much as he can manage, and it’s still not enough. His rage is overflowing. “I’m mad at life, I think.” Does that make sense? “And I’m mad at myself, for not being able to come up with a way to  _ fix  _ this problem.”

Michael blinks sadly at him. His trotters are messy with stale birthday cake. “I could -- even if I could kill Dream, and Technoblade, that wouldn’t make Tommy safe. Bad stuff could still happen to him. Maybe I should lock him up here with you in the attic.” Michael squeals with joy. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d make him play with you all the time.”

He sets Michael down; he can feel the toddler getting fidgety in his hold. “I get it, I’ve been out all day and nobody’s given you any attention. There was,” he laughs, “sort of a lot going on. But I have time to play now.” He has an idea. “Go get your crayons, bud. We can do an art project.” As the piglin fetches his supplies and chews on the paper wrappers, Tubbo takes a record off the shelf and slides it into their cassette player. Michael squeaks. “Yeah, I like this song too. It’s happy. Can you draw what it makes you think of?”

  
Tubbo watches him work, the clean sound of piano plinking into those floppy pink ears. The page fills with joyful bright swirls of color, and he realizes the world is so strange. That his son is a half-dead piglet from hell (and he fits, and Tubbo loves him). That his best friend died and was resurrected (and so they are making him a welcome-back present). That he has nuclear weapons hidden in his village (and that doesn’t even help him feel better). He shrugs.  _ He can live with this. _

**Author's Note:**

> *Gently pokes DSMP characters with a broom* please get therapy please.
> 
> I read and appreciate all comments <3
> 
> Taking a little break between projects to write something short and nice.
> 
> ***  
> [ SnowchesterApologist](https://snowchesterapologist.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr - Come say hi to me! 🧡


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